Take a Walk With Me
by boldlikeblack
Summary: You are cordially invited to the wedding of Rebecca Emily Rosen and Adam Joseph Milligan.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own Supernatural. If I did, I'd carve it into a brand new animal.

**A/N:** Part of the Beckam fluffverse. Everyone loves a wedding, right? Feed my ego, give me reviews.

**BBB**

The hall is hot and surprisingly crowded. The seats are full of hunters that Adam has patched up on numerous occasions and ones that Dean and Sam have worked with, with a few of Becky's writer friends mixed in here and there, staring around uncomfortably at the varying degrees of rough and tumble in the room. Sheriff Mills,_ Jodie_ as she's reminded him on several occasions, has grabbed a seat at seat at the front next to Cas and damned if she isn't one of the most beautiful women Bobby has ever seen when she chooses to doll herself up. Provided that he gets enough liquid courage at the reception, Bobby might even ask her to dance.

Bobby shifts as a bead of sweat runs down his spine. It's unseasonably warm for October in South Dakota and the sun is beating through the windows, making Bobby regret the suit jacket that Dean had talked him into. The boys, flanking either side of Adam at the front of the hall, are both dressed in their FBI best, but Bobby'd drawn the line at wearing a full suit. He'd chosen his best shirt, bought new jeans and even agreed to wear a tie, but he'd reasoned that someone needed to be ready to work in case any supernatural uglies decided to capitalize on the fact that most of the hunters in the Midwest had RSVP'd yes. Dean had then pushed him into wearing the suit jacket to give him a place to hide the rock-salt loaded sawed off that Bobby had chosen to accessorize with.

Naturally, the boys were both armed to the teeth under their suits. Dean had no less than four pistols hidden on his person, vehemently stating that no demonic sons of bitches were going to ruin his little brother's wedding, and Bobby isn't sure, but Sam may actually have a bit of C-4 in his coat pocket, just in case. Even the groom himself didn't escape Dean's insistence that everyone who could be armed should be. Adam, dressed in a dark blue suit, white shirt and pale blue tie, had been given one of John Winchester's pistols as a wedding gift and Bobby had watched Dean tuck it into the kid's waistband himself.

Studying Adam, Bobby shakes head. He can see the kid's forehead glistening from here as Sam reaches over to pat him on the shoulder, probably saying something encouraging. He's not really sure what the big deal is, since Adam's been with Becky for the past four years, but Bobby remembers his own wedding and the nervousness that tangled his guts in knots before Karen walked down the aisle on her father's arm. It was nothing less than pure dread that filled him, standing there in front of the whole damn town wondering what the hell a guy like him was doing marrying a sweetheart like Karen. He'd wanted to run, been damn convinced that he wasn't good enough for her and that she was about to make the biggest mistake of her life, but the doors had opened and she'd walked toward him, smiling and crying, and Bobby had stayed.

Adam looks a bit nervous and Bobby takes a look at his watch, raising his brows at the time. From what Bobby understood, it wasn't uncommon for the bride to be late, but Becky's thirty minutes overdue and Bobby knows she's in the building since Jodie had been her ride. Dean's starting to look antsy too, which is never a good thing, so Bobby catches his attention and mouths that he'll check it out.

Becky's not hard to find, since the hall isn't very big and there's only one room big enough for Becky to get ready in, but Bobby's surprised when the door swings open and he spots her curled up on the couch with her knees tight to her chest, wrinkling her dress. She's staring out the window with black streaks of smudged makeup drying under her eyes and he has to step over the fragments of her phone to get to her. "Becky?" he says.

She looks up and smiles wanly. "Hey Bobby," she sniffles. "You look nice."

Sighing and praying for strength, Bobby takes a seat next to her. He nudges the pieces of her broken phone with his foot. "Something you want to share, missy?"

Becky stands up, making her long, pale blue dress fall to the floor and scrubs at the streaks of makeup on her cheeks. "How late am I, exactly?" she asks, walking over to the mirror and putting on some kind of cream that wipes away all the black junk.

"Half an hour, give or take," Bobby states. He stands and crosses his arms, frowning at her. "Far as I know, regardless of his DNA, the guy you're marrying today is a Milligan, so don't try that Winchester-dance-around-the-question crap with me. Start talking."

She pushes the wand thing back in the tube and wipes under her eyes again. "It's my own fault and you can call me an idjit if you want. I called my mom. I don't know…I was really hoping that she'd change her mind."

For a moment, Bobby panics because Becky looks like she might start to cry again. "No use getting yourself all worked up over it," he says awkwardly.

Becky smiles again and tucks a stray sandy curl behind her ear. "I know, I know," she replies. "I guess I was just holding out the silly hope that maybe, just maybe, she'd show up at the last minute to walk be down the aisle." Shrugging, Becky turns back to the mirror and adjusts her dark blue sash. "I don't know what I was thinking," she says, sighing.

"You were thinking that today's an important day and that you wanted your mother to be here, I'd imagine," Bobby states, furious on Becky's behalf.

He hadn't thought much of her when he'd first met her, after having heard about her from Sam and Dean, but she'd wormed her way into his heart over the years, deep as any of John's boys. She was a bundle of energy and positivity that provided him with brief moments of respite in the grimness of the hunter's lifestyle and reminded him, painfully at time, of Karen. She bullied him into drinking less, she brought him casseroles and dragged Adam over almost every Saturday for dinner. She included him in Christmukkah celebrations and baked him pie for his birthday. It wasn't right for her mother to turn her back on Becky just because she wanted to marry the man she loved in a non-denominational ceremony instead of in a temple.

"You're a damn fine young woman who doesn't deserve that kind of bullshit behaviour," he snarls.

Becky smiles at him, a shade dimmer than her normal brilliant grin, and steps close enough to close her hand around his arm. She squeezes lightly and smiles. "I know, Bobby, but I appreciate you saying it. Now you go back out there and sit down. I'll be out in two minutes. I just have to get my bouquet and check my hair."

"You're gonna walk yourself down the aisle?" Bobby asks, raising a brow.

"That's the plan," Becky replies, still smiling, though it doesn't reach her eyes.

"I don't think so, missy," Bobby says, deciding then and there that he just won't stand for it. He grabs her bunch of yellow daisies off the table and makes sure she's holding on to it before he tucks her hand into the curve of his elbow. He looks at her, waiting for her to protest, but she just smiles.

"Let's go get you hitched," he quips.

Becky laughs and the smile stays on her face all the way to the alter.

**BBB**

Bobby most definitely doesn't tear up, not even a little, when Becky drags him up to dance to 'Let It Be'.

He just loves really loves the Beatles.


End file.
